


Where the Circle Ends

by gayscreeching



Series: The Guardian's Guide [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Horror, I'm gonna do my best here but I promise nothing, If anyone reads this thank you but also why, Magic, Original Story - Freeform, Shifting perspective, Tags Are Hard, Terror, We love impulse posting a story we probably would never be brave enough to post before, Witchcraft, cryptic, mild body horror, original concept
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28586853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayscreeching/pseuds/gayscreeching
Summary: Deep within the forest lives a creature known only as The Guardian. Little is known about the beast, and countless souls have disappeared in the woods, or been driven to madness after an encounter with the creature. Few dare to venture into the woods for fear of meeting The Guardian, but there is one who lives among the trees, unafraid of the beast which haunts the woods and offering to guide those who wish to venture through the woods, for a price."Do not harm the Guardian, for when angered it will never let you leave these woods."
Series: The Guardian's Guide [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095497
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	1. Predator And Prey

**Author's Note:**

> Past some mild body horror towards the end of the chapter there aren't any outstanding warning to put here so I'll just hope you enjoy the story so far!

The woods were strangely quiet around the small group of men that made their way through the trees with only the sounds of their steps to provide them company. The guns slung over their shoulders and across their backs did little to comfort them as they knew bullets would do nothing to stop what hid among the trees. Despite this risk with the proper guide the deer that were protected by the creature that stalked the woods were large enough to make the hunt worth it. 

The cabin that lay deep within the woods, the one place all could agree was safe, was not easy to find, but the strange baubles that hung from the canopy of trees along deer trails provided a path clear enough that the men could reach the place before the sun fell behind the mountains. As they reached the cabin the stories they had been told by locals became reality as they saw the house in which their guide lived. The old log cabin would have looked abandoned if not for the flickering light of a fire lighting up the inside enough to make out shadowy figures through the window where plants seemed to have grown over most of the glass. Vines climbed the side of the cabin, lacing their way into the gaps of the logs, though more tamed plants were also visible, more exotic flora resided in pots that lined the porch. If only to add to the chill that crawled up each man’s spin upon sight of the house were the skulls that acted as a border around the house along with great white stones. The old skulls of beasts that lived in the forest did little to assure the men, though based upon the stories they had heard in the town perhaps they helped to drive the monster that hunted in the woods away from the witch. 

Before any man could think to step across the circle the door was pulled open allowing the light of the fire to mix with the dimming daylight as a figure stood, watching the men with unseen eyes. There were furrs slung over her shoulders, and a bow slung over her shoulder while vines acted as bracers on her arms. The clothes she wore were old and worn, as if she had worn the same outfit for years. “You’d do best to enter the circle before the sun falls, these woods are not safe at night.” Her voice was soft despite the aura around her. “If you are here for a guide then we will set out once the sun rises in the morn’, but unless you wish to spend your final moments before the beast you would do well to come inside; we have spare beds you may have for the night.” 

With not another word leaving her lips the woman turned and disappeared into the dark of the house while the fire flickered just beyond the threshold, inviting the men inside. It was with hesitant steps that the first stepped over the ring of stones and skulls, yet despite his hesitation he failed to burst into flames or collapse from some wicked spell, so one after the other each man made his way inside the circle, saying nothing to each other as they made their way towards the still open door of the cabin. 

The inside made the men’s skin crawl just as the exterior had, with skulls and beaded twine hanging from the beams which acted as a ceiling, pots with various crawling plants hung near the skulls, some having begun to call the old creatures home. The fire that crackled in the only brick structure in the home did little to light up the large space, casting barely enough light to illuminate the ancient couch where various pelts lay strewn about, or the short table where knives lay, various deep cuts casting shadows upon the wood. “Your room is down the hall, the last door there. I would advise against exploring here.” Her tone lacked the one soft tone now that the men were inside, the front door snapping shut after the last man made his way to the center of the room. “Sleep well for it will be long until the sun sets once again.” There was no offer for food to leave her lips, nor did it seem like any man was brave enough to ask for anything more than shelter. It was with a silent agreement that the group made their way to the room offered to them, which lacked any sort of bed or other ornaments, though perhaps plain was the best they could have hoped for in that dark cabin. 

Sleep did not come readily to any man that night, the creaking of the floors only served to cause panic to race through whoever was unlucky enough to be awake when it broke the silence of the night, though it was nothing compared to the long howl that echoed out from the surrounding woods which woke every man from their slumber however deep. They would survive that night in the woods despite the warnings given to them upon their departure, but as the sun rose on the horizon each man worried if they would see the sun rise another day. 

“You are here to hunt, no, I expect you to be ready before the kettle whistles or you will be navigating these woods alone.” The voice of the woman echoed through the door into the barren room as the men stirred from their uneasy rest, each man slowly rising from where they had settled, gathering what little things they had brought with them so as to meet their guide in the main room before she expected them to venture out alone. Few travelers had good things to say of the woman who lived in the woods, but none could deny that she was one of the few who could navigate without fear; she was one of few who did not fear The Guardian.

“You are ready then?” Her words came as a surprise to the first man out of the room, her back pressed up against the wall next to the still burning fireplace while an ancient cup was brought to her lips. Despite never hearing the kettle whistle the woman held a drink, which she set down in favor of reaching the front door before the hunters. “You will stick close to me and you will be certain to not use your weapons until I have instructed you to do so; you have heard stories of these woods before you entered I expect, and few are exaggerations.” The light that flooded the dark house as the door was pulled open was blinding, and each man was left to blink in a desperate attempt to adjust to the sudden burning gaze of the sun as their guide left her home. 

“Ma’am!” The youngest of the men, practically still a boy, spoke up as he followed, desperately trying to draw the attention of the guide before they crossed the circle of stones that separated the cabin from the woods. “If something attacks should we not defend our-”

“No, you will sooner die.” Her voice was stern, and while she did not look back at the young man the tension in her shoulders was enough to stop any further questions from the hunters. They knew long before they entered that the rules of the forest were strict if you were meant to live, but it had not set in that they may die in the vague hope that their death would be less painful. 

Before another could speak up the woman stepped over the circle of stones, and almost as if a spell had been lifted the forest sprung to life around her, the once silent birds now allowing themselves to sing, the leaves above danced with life. This new spell of life only lasted for a moment before the hunters followed and the woods grew dark once more; they were not welcome among the trees like she, and if not for the path to the cabin or her presence next to them now there was no doubt in their minds that the woods would do everything in its power to send them out. 

Their guide did little to assure the men of their path, no words had left her lips since she had passed the circle, and there was little sign that the deer trail they now followed had been used by more than the creatures who had made it. Even with their clothes designed to help them remain unseen it was like eyes never left the group as they made their way deeper into the forest, silent other than the crunch of their feet against the earth. 

After what felt like centuries they stopped, allowing the sun to warm their skin between the thick bunches of leaves that hung above. “Each man may kill one deer, the eldest of you may hunt the buck. Do not stray far from here, you will know if you have wandered too far.” Leaving the men to mull over her words she made to sit on a large rock which lay among a circle of trees, the clearing far too perfect to be natural. Her eyes closed and her body relaxed as she settled, in an almost trance like state while the men watched on, if not for the sudden colliding of antlers against each other they may have stayed there until the woman moved again, so taken with the wave of calm that seemed to fall over them. 

The men did not travel together for the hunt they had been promised, none wished to spoil another’s chance at a mark. The youngest man, the only one who had been brave enough to speak to their strange guide, was the first to leave the others in hopes of finding a deer to claim as his own. With his rifle in hand he ventured out between the trees, following a path long worn into the forest, traveling further and further from the feeling of calm that tugged at his chest. When he finally found a deer he took quick note of the antlers, caring little about the woman’s warning; there could be no harm in him taking a buck instead of a doe. 

Leveling his barrel at the great creature he steadied his hand, taking a long, deep breath as he picked his target on its pelt. It was only just before he pulled the trigger that his mind registered there was something wrong. The deer was larger than any buck he had seen before, with muscles that rippled beneath it’s fur, but there was something off with the way it held itself, something wrong with how it’s hooves touched the earth. It’s pelt that had once looked stunning in the evening sun now seemed patchy, uneven and inconsistent like it was an amalgamation of different pelts. The shape of its limbs was too thin, almost spidery and uneven, bending in ways unnatural for the creature it pretended to be. The antlers were far larger than any other rack, branching out for seemingly forever, as if staring too long at it would cause him to become lost in the bone. Its face was far worse than the rest, nothing more than a skull with patches of skin and fur barely hanging onto the pale white, it lacked eyes but the dark pits where they should have been felt like they were boring into the man, knowing his entire being while seeing nothing at all. 

The shot that left the rifle echoed through the woods, the trees that suddenly felt far too empty, before his screams filled the silence as the beast reached him.


	2. Curses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Conan, our protagonist, and stubborn tourist out for revenge against the thing called "The Guardian".

Birds scattered into the air as the sun began to set, their dark bodies clear against the deep red that pooled on the horizon. It had been but a few weeks since the last body was found on the forest’s edge, mangled in a way that left it looking to be barely human and the all too familiar mark of The Guardian left with the corpse; the antler of a deer was always left protruding out of the victim’s head, not that the antlers ever looked the same. The town was used to the sight of corpses, the locals hardly flinched when presented with the image of a body, perhaps that was how they so often learned who the tourists were. 

Conan was a different sort, angered by the sight of the bodies where most would be indifferent; no one cared as long as it wasn’t someone they knew; and the locals knew better than to visit those woods alone. He had done all he could to ask about what different people might know of the beast that hunted the hunters, but knowledge was limited and few cared to learn more than the rest, so he was left mulling over old history books and praying he could find something useful before he had to resort to other methods. 

The latest book he’d found in the forgotten section of the town’s one, and only, library was not nearly as substantial as some of the other’s he’d read, but something about the faded title seemed promising. Just as he was beginning to skim the book for any mention of The Guardian, as the locals liked to call him, a knock drew his attention to the old wooden door of his motel room. “Yeah?” He didn’t have any friends in town, hell he barely had friends outside of town, but it wasn’t like he was worried about someone killing him, worst he had to fear was the forest. 

After a second the door was pushed open to reveal the woman who’d checked him into the motel. She had seemed relatively young to him when he first arrived in town, and in truth he had been hoping to get the room for cheap thanks to her age, but it didn’t take long for Conan to learn the soft faced woman was much older than she first seemed. “We have a strict pay policy here, ya know? Unless you got a hundred on you in cash I’m gonna have to ask you to clear out.” 

“Oh son of a-” His startled curse was cut off by the snap of the book he had been reading before he threw it aside in favor of standing from the bed and searching through his pockets for his wallet. “I forgot, I’m sorry, just… a little busy.”

“Being a historian, I can tell.” She had more patience than he could have ever mustered, there were plenty of times in the past week where he’d watch her deal with rowdy teens or obnoxious adults, but even still he couldn’t blame her for her short tone considering it was the fourth time he’d done this since he arrived in town. “Do you have the cash or not, Blackwood?” 

“I do, and I really am sorry..” The crumpled bills were offered up to the woman, and while she still seemed far from pleased the disgruntled look on her face softened, as if she only just noticed the dark circles under his eyes. 

“Just try and pay on time tomorrow.”

As the door closed Conan felt himself breathe a sigh of relief, the tension he hadn't realized had built up in his shoulders as he fell back onto the bed. “What a great start to the day, huh?” The words were mumbled under his breath as he glanced over at his open suitcase where an old picture sat, framed so it didn’t break during travel. It had been years since he lost his dad, years since that fateful hunting trip that he never returned from. He still had some of the newspaper clippings from the incident that had happened so long ago, the bodies of his father and his friends seemed to haunt his every waking moment in that small town. Trying to ignore the blank stares from the black and white photos he closed the suitcase, hiding the pictures away as he turned his attention to the wall where other pictures were carefully hung. 

The photographs the hotel used to make the room feel less empty sat on the floor and in their place was a large cork board which he was using to organize his thoughts; it felt like his memory was foggy since he first arrived in town. Pictures strung together, evidence of what lurked in the woods, what hunted in those woods. 

“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” Conan tried to step in front of the older man, doing his best to be respectful but there was no way he was going to let another person slip by without at least answering one question, too many times the locals dodged his inquiries about the monster that lived in the woods by just walking away.

“I do mind, son, not everyone can afford to stand around chattin’ all day, some of us got jobs to get to.” 

“I’ll be quick, I promise.”

The older man, with a long white beard and wrinkled face frowned, the creases around his mouth only deepened as he looked at Conan. He seemed to be balding slightly, with an old paddy cap sitting loosely on his head, and if Conan hadn’t known any better he may have called him a cobbler with the calluses on his hands. “If someone runs along and asks for me your questions do not matter, you know this, yes? A doctor’s work comes before any idle chat.”

“Of course, sir.” Fixing the old, worn aviator coat he wore, he pulled out a small notepad and pen out of the deep inner pocket. “So uh, do you know anything about the… Guardian?” The title of the beast felt sour on his tongue, a name that should be reserved for something good, not a creature that did little more than terrorize and kill. 

“Everyone here knows about The Guardian, why do you think we live here? You tourists are always the ones wanting to know more about it. Let me give you some advice, boy. Stop trying to search for answers about that creature, you’ll be better off for it. There’s a good reason no one worth a damn in town wants to talk to you ‘bought it.” The man’s stern look did little to change as pulled an old stopwatch from his pocket, the gold watch ticking softly as he glanced at it. “Since you promised you wouldn’t be long, I will be taking my leave now. I have more important things to deal with today.” Turning and walking away he seemed to be mumbling to himself, making his way between the houses without much thought. If Conan hadn’t been watching him go he may have missed the little blue bird that dive bombed the old man, though the way he stepped aside, unbothered by it’s attack, made him wonder if it had happened before.

While the doctor’s words were disheartening, it wasn’t enough to stop Conan in his search for answers, hell it made him more determined. This town existed in the middle of nowhere, fully aware of what lived in those woods, yet no one wanted to tell him about it. Maybe if he could find someone who ‘wasn’t worth a damn’ he’d be able to get some answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the chapters so far are a little short, my apologies, but honestly if I don't update it now I never will.

**Author's Note:**

> The Guardian's design was created by my friend Birdy_Noir here on AO3, all other characters in this chapter are my own. If you've actually read this far, props to you, I'm not exactly expecting anyone to read this but I thought it might be time I share some of my work. I can't promise anything close to a consistent updating schedule, but I do promise to not just leave this fic to sit and collect dust for too long!
> 
> Comments are highly appreciated and in truth I would love to hear what anyone and everyone thinks of this seeing as it's my first fic that I've actually put in a public place. I know this chapter isn't exactly long but I'm going more for feeling and just kind of a set up type deal over quantity for now.


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